


Sparking Joy

by VioletHaze



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bottom Dean Winchester, First Time, KonMari, M/M, Marie Kondo - Freeform, PWP, Top Castiel, gracegasm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-26
Updated: 2019-01-26
Packaged: 2019-10-17 06:29:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17555126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VioletHaze/pseuds/VioletHaze
Summary: With one last thought of gratitude, Cas neatly folds the t-shirt. “Other than that, it doesn’t spark joy. So it’s got to go. ”“That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever—hey, that’s my t-shirt.”“You gave it to me.”“Yeah, it was a gift. You keep those. We’ve been through this, Cas.”Cas pretends to look thoughtful. “You gave it to me when my shirt got covered in blood. I believe the exact words you used were ‘here, you fucking idiot.’” From the look on Dean’s face, Cas has successfully weaponized his air quotes.“Ok, so maybe that was a bit—"“It doesn’t spark joy. So it goes.”





	Sparking Joy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [starespressos](https://archiveofourown.org/users/starespressos/gifts).



> With love to the Growlery. Thanks for not (yet) showing me the door for good!

Holding the t-shirt in both hands, Cas draws it close to his chest.

“Not you, too.”

Cas keeps his eyes closed for an extra moment before turning around to face Dean where he’s slumped far too casually just inside the doorway of Cas’s room.

“Don’t mock me, Dean.”

“Did you remember to thank it?”

Cas glares at him. “I did. It kept me warm and dry on one particular day.”

“Yeah, cause it’s a shirt. That’s what they’re for.”

With one last thought of gratitude, Cas neatly folds the t-shirt. “Other than that, it doesn’t spark joy. So it’s got to go. ”

“That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever—hey, that’s _my_ t-shirt.”

“You gave it to me.”

“Yeah, it was a gift. You keep those. We’ve been through this, Cas.”

Cas pretends to look thoughtful. “You gave it to me when my shirt got covered in blood. I believe the exact words you used were ‘here, you fucking idiot.’” From the look on Dean’s face, Cas has successfully weaponized his air quotes.

“Ok, so maybe that was a bit—"

“It doesn’t spark joy. So it goes.”

Dean works his jaw a moment, silently considering before he answers. “Well, I say you should hang on to things. In our line of work, you never know when something might change and you’ll need it.”

Cas sets the folded t-shirt on top of the pile and moves toward the door. “Is that so?”

“Uh, yeah,” Dean says, and to his credit he doesn’t shift even when Cas comes right up into his personal space. They stare at each other for a long, charged moment before Cas reaches for him. Dean’s eyes get big, and he takes his hands out his pockets, but Cas merely puts a hand on either side of his head, holding him steady as he tips his own head in concentration.

“Hmmm.”

“What.” Dean clears his throat and tries again. “What are you doing?”

“I’m determining whether or not you spark joy.”

It’s mesmerizing to watch the play of emotions cross Dean’s face...the blush that stains his cheeks even as he tries to keep his chin jutted forward in some attempt at insolence. He can see the war between Dean’s desire to pull away and how his throat clicks as he swallows, his eyes flicking down to Cas’s mouth.

“What’s your verdict?”

Cas kisses him, hands sliding down to cup his face. He crowds Dean even closer against the door frame and Dean wraps his arms around Cas’s waist, kissing him back. Cas takes it all in, the warmth of Dean’s plush lips, the rasp of stubble against his palm, the solid heat of his body. It’s so far beyond joy that he’s not sure there’s a word yet created in any language that could capture it.

“I take it that’s a yes,” Dean says when they pull apart, but his breathlessness undermines the snark.

Cas gets him all the way inside his room and slams the door shut behind him. “That could change at any time.”

A slow smile spreads across Dean’s face. “I can work with that.”

Cas kisses him again, backing him up until they get to the bed. Dean sits, looking up at Cas through his lashes before beginning to take off his boots. With a sweep of his arm, Cas sends the stacked pile of give-away clothes to the floor.

Still tugging on one boot, Dean heaves a mock sigh. “You’re gonna have to apologize to them now.”

“You being clothed is not sparking joy,” Cas growls. With two fingers, he starts to reach toward Dean’s forehead, but then hesitates, suddenly worried that he’s moving too fast. It’s apparently a misplaced concern because Dean closes his eyes and leans forward to complete the touch. With a crackle of electricity, they’re both naked.

“Better?”

“Much.”

In all the times Castiel imagined this, nothing could have prepared him for the sight of Dean stretched out on his bed, every inch of beautiful, freckled skin on display. He’s stunned almost into paralysis, still standing at the foot of the bed until Dean pats the mattress next to him. Cas is an angel, a steadfast ancient being. He’s been trained in the ways of a warrior, resolute and unflappable. He trips over his own feet trying to get on to the bed faster.

Dean doesn’t laugh at him, though, or if he does, it’s with his face pressed into Cas’s neck. They wrap themselves up in each other, hands running over warm skin, limbs tangled together. Cas gets a thigh between Dean’s legs, and is rewarded by Dean’s kiss turning into a soft moan. Cas lets Dean roll him onto his back, lets Dean run his broad palm across his chest, thumbing over a hardening nipple even as he kisses Cas until he can barely remember his own name. Pulling at him, Cas tugs Dean to lie on top of him so that Cas’s hands can follow the swell of Dean’s ass. But Dean pushes himself up to straddle Cas’s thighs, looking ever so slightly smug as he stays just on the periphery of Cas’s reach.

Dean lets his eyes and hands rove, finding out what makes Cas shiver and squirm as he trails his hands lower and lower, fingers teasing through the nest of wiry hair while ignoring his achingly hard erection.

“Dean, please.”

“I’ve got you.” He takes Cas’s cock in his hand and Cas’s hips jolt of their own accord. Dean thumbs over the head, spreading the moisture beading there, and the slow glide of his hand is almost unbearably good. “Cas, can we…”

“Anything you want.” Cas would give him the moon and the stars right now. He’d put that dumb t-shirt back in his closet or place it on a pedestal under a spotlight in the corner of his room. Anything so long as he can be with Dean like this.

Dean’s so beautiful, suddenly shy as he bites his lip. “I want you inside me,” he says, all in a rush.

Cas flips him onto his back, pinning his arms over his head. It doesn’t escape his notice that Dean seems more than amenable to being manhandled. “I would like that very much.”

He leans down to kiss Dean some more, letting their cocks nudge up against each other, kissing Dean’s jaw, his throat, and along his shoulder. He kisses him until Dean starts to shift beneath him, impatient.

Then he pulls back enough to see Dean’s face, to watch for the exact moment when he realizes what’s happening. He sees it when Dean’s eyes flutter open and he licks his lips. “Cas, is that..are you…”

“I’m sparking joy.” Cas uses his grace to get Dean ready, tendrils of it flitting over his prostate until he’s nearly whimpering with need.

Reluctantly, Cas frees Dean’s hands and repositions himself to kneel between Dean’s legs. Pressing his thighs up and apart, Cas lines up and pushes into him with a single, smooth glide. Dean responds at once by grabbing onto Cas’s shoulders, holding him in place even as he arches up to meet each thrust.

Cas doesn’t know where to look. The flush that’s crept along Dean’s chest is enticing, as is the soft circle of his gently parted lips. But the sight of his cock entering Dean’s yielding body is nothing short of intoxicating. Encouraged by Dean’s response, Cas fucks him hard, driving into him until Dean’s forced to put one hand behind his head to brace himself on the headboard, all the while gasping and asking for more. Cas gives him what he needs, until he’s panting himself, struggling to contain the orgasm building with every thrust.

“Touch yourself,” he says, and Dean lets go of Cas’s bicep to obey. There’s no way Cas isn’t going to leave those fingerprint bruises there.  

As Dean strokes his own cock, Cas slows down, thrusting deeper instead, adjusting his angle until Dean is moaning and clenching around him. Dean comes with a sharp cry, pulsing hot and sticky all over his chest. Cas fucks him through it and when he gazes up, green eyes soft and hazy and sated, Cas can hold back no longer. He comes deep inside Dean, pleasure coursing through every inch of his body.

The lamp on the bedside table shatters.

The whirring hum of the bunker’s generators are suddenly noticeable in their absence.

Somewhere a klaxon begins to sound.

Sam’s urgent footsteps echo in the hall. “What’s going on?”

As the power comes back on, Dean claps a hand over his own mouth to keep from laughing.

“Everything’s fine in here, Sam.” Cas calls, then buries his face in Dean’s neck.

“I’m gonna go check the security system. Will you check on Dean?”

“Consider it done.”

As his footsteps recede, Cas moves off of Dean, leaving them both dry and clean.

Loose-limbed, Dean rolls to face him. “Gonna keep me, then?”

Cas kisses the grin right off his face.

**Author's Note:**

> I'd been thinking "Spark Joy" was the perfect name for a gracegasm fic but it wasn't until [starespressos](https://archiveofourown.org/users/starespressos/pseuds/starespressos) provided me with the image of Cas with his hands on Dean's head to determine whether or not he sparked joy that this all came together!


End file.
